


Nose for News

by whichclothes



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-26
Updated: 2010-10-26
Packaged: 2017-10-12 21:57:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/129511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whichclothes/pseuds/whichclothes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A reporter interviews the man who saved people from drug-crazed mass-murderers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nose for News

  
  
  
  
  


**Entry tags:**

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[nose for news](http://whichclothes.livejournal.com/tag/nose%20for%20news), [spike/xander](http://whichclothes.livejournal.com/tag/spike%2Fxander), [spook_me](http://whichclothes.livejournal.com/tag/spook_me)  
  
  
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**Title:**  Nose for News   
 **Chapters:** : 1  
 **Pairing:**  Spike/Xander  
 **Rating:**  PG  
 **Disclaimer:**  I'm not Joss  
 **Summary:** A reporter interviews the man who saved people from  drug-crazed mass-murderers.  
 **AN:** For [](http://spook-me.livejournal.com/profile)[**spook_me**](http://spook-me.livejournal.com/) . Prompts were "zombies" and [this comic cover](http://s879.photobucket.com/albums/ab353/spook_me/?action=view&current=chamber_chills21.jpg). Thanks, as always, to [](http://silk-labyrinth.livejournal.com/profile)[**silk_labyrinth**](http://silk-labyrinth.livejournal.com/)  for her wonderful beta work!

  


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**Nose for News (1/1)**   
_

**  
Nose for News  
**

 

“You know, I already told everything to the cops. Twice. Why not just read the police report?”

She gave him her most sparkling smile, the one that she hoped would one day get her out of print journalism and onto people’s HDTV screens. “But police reports are so…bland. I’d really like to hear it straight from the horse’s mouth. Get a sense of the man behind the heroism.” She actually batted her lashes a little.

“I wasn’t….” He sighed. “You’re not gonna leave me alone until I say yes, are you?”

She smiled. “Nope.”

After a brief pause, he said, “Come in then, I guess.” And he stepped aside so she could enter the little house. The living room was surprisingly neat, with a couple of comfy-looking couches, a flat-screen TV, and shelves stuffed with books and DVDs. A movie was on the TV—something with car chases—and he clicked it off with the remote as he walked by. He led her into the small kitchen and gestured her to sit at the table.

“Want something to drink? Water or something?” he asked.

“Water would be great. Thanks.”

He brought her a bottle and sat down opposite her; he had a can of Heineken, which he popped open. She spent a moment just looking at him. He was handsome, with tousled dark-brown hair and a day’s worth of stubble on his face. The eyepatch didn’t really detract from his good looks, she decided, but instead gave him kind of a sexy bad-boy look. She pulled her recorder out of her pocket, turned it on and set it on the table, then took out a notepad and pen as well.

“Recording _and_ writing? You’re prepared,” he said.

She shrugged. “I like a backup. So, Mr. Harris—”

“Xander.”

“Xander, then,” she said. “Short for Alexander, right?”

“Yep.”

“Why don’t we begin with you telling me a little about yourself?”

 “Really not much to tell. I’m pretty much Mr. Boring.” He looked down at his loose gray t-shirt, like that was evidence of how unexciting he was.

“Well, how old are you? Where are you from? What do you do for a living?”

“Um, thirty-two, Southern California, and construction, mostly.”

“Mmhhm.” She looked around the kitchen, which was clean but looked lived-in. “How long have you been in Detroit?”

“A couple years. Look, Miss uh—”

“Christy O’Brien. Christy to you.”

“Okay, Christy. Nobody’s interested in me, really. I’m not interested and I _am_ me.”

“I think you’re interesting.” She tried the smile again, this time with a sweep of her blonde hair.

He didn’t seem to notice. “If you want to know what happened the other night, that’s fine. But let’s just skip to that part.”

He did look tired, she noticed. Probably the events of Wednesday evening had taken a lot out of him. “Okay, Xander. Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

He drank about half his can of beer and was about to answer when another man entered from a side doorway. By the way Xander’s eye lit up at the sight of the newcomer, Christy understood why her winning smile had gone nowhere with Xander. And how could she blame him? This guy was stunning, with cheekbones a model would envy, plump lips, and sharp blue eyes. He looked like he’d just woken up: his bleached hair was all tousled and he wore only tight jeans. His pale skin gleamed over his tightly muscled, hairless chest. He leaned over slightly and kissed the side of Xander’s head. “Guest, love?” he asked, looking at her.

Oh, God. He was English, too. Why, oh why, were all the really cute ones gay?

Xander sort of scowled and waved his can in her direction. “Reporter. She wants to interview me about the zom—about the other day.”

“ _This_ ought to be interesting,” the blond said, sauntering to the fridge. Christy and Xander both watched him as he poured something out of a big plastic pitcher and into a mug—it might have been tomato soup, she thought—and heated it in the microwave a few seconds, then crumbled some saltines on top. He came back to the table and sat down next to Xander. He slurped at his soup and Xander made a horrible face.

“Christy, this is my—this is Spike. Spike, Christy O’Brien.”

She held out her hand and he shook it. His hand was smooth and cold. “Hi,” he said neutrally.

“Were you there for all the excitement, Spike?”

He snorted with amusement, although she didn’t know why. “No. Was a bit early for me.”

“Spike’s, um, a night person,” Xander added. He’d been tired and a little cranky before Spike entered the room, but now for some reason Xander seemed a little nervous.

“All right. Now, you were just about to tell me what happened. It was an hour or so before sunset, right?”

“Forty-five minutes,” Xander replied, as if he always kept track of when the sun went down.

Spike slurped again and sat back in his chair with a smirk. “Tell the girl what happened, pet. All the details.”

Usually Christy hated being called a girl—she was a _woman_ , damn it!—but somehow she minded less from those lips.

Xander took a deep breath and looked like he might be considering fetching another beer. “Okay, so it was forty-five minutes before sunset and I was on my way home from work. The site’s not far from here—it’s one of those redevelopment projects—and I’ve been walking, kinda getting some exercise—”

“Walking off some of those donuts,” Spike interrupted.

Xander glared at him. “Yes, Spike. Some of us like a Ho Ho or two now and then, and some of us are aging a little bit, and some of us have normal metabolisms and want to stay trim so our boyfriends don’t make cracks about love handles.”

“Don’t really mind the love handles, love,” Spike replied mildly.

Xander’s scowl disappeared and he turned back to her with a small smile. “So I was walking home and I decided to stop at Franco’s and pick up a pizza. Extra Canadian bacon, no garlic. Spike, um, has an allergy. But when I walked inside the restaurant, something didn’t seem right. That kid who always works at the front counter—”

Christy flipped through her notes. “Benny Rodrigues.”

“Yeah, I guess. He was there like always, but he looked, um…different. Wrong.”

Xander paused for a moment as if he were thinking of the right words, and Spike smirked again. He was really good at it. “Be more specific, love. I’ll wager she fancies hearing every little detail so she can put it in her newspaper.”

“You are _so_ in trouble later, Fang—uh, Bleachboy.”

Spike waggled his eyebrows. “I’m counting on it.”

Xander blushed a little. “Okay, he was really pale and, er, not very lively.”

“You could see old Benny was dead on his feet,” Spike said with a grin.

“Pot kettle, Spike. Pot kettle.” Xander squished his empty can a little, making the metal crackle. “Benny wasn’t doing so good. I got a little worried. And…well, I guess I should’ve just left the place right then. Should’ve called 911 or something.”

Spike pointed at him. “You _should_ have waited to go out until I could join you, like I said. But you wouldn’t listen.”

“I can’t live all my daylight hours locked up inside! Besides, grown man here. I can handle myself.”

“Grown man who attracts trouble like shite attracts flies,” Spike snorted.

“Hey!”

“Boys!” Christy interrupted. “I don’t want to get in the middle of anything, but I have a deadline.” Although, honestly, if they were going to kiss and make up she wouldn’t mind catching that part.

Nobody kissed. Xander shot his boyfriend another dirty look and continued his story. “I exchanged a few words with Benny. Or, well, I said words. He was more with the _grrr, argh_. Then he attacked me. I was carrying my trusty sta—uh, a piece of broken wood. From the job site. So I used it to defend myself.”

“Wrong weapon, pet,” Spike said. “Won’t stop his kind.”

“Well it sure as hell slowed him down. And it’s what I happened to have handy, anyway. It’s not like I carry an arsenal with me. And remind me later to ask you what does stop his kind, ‘cause that’d be a good thing to know in the future since I seem to be a magnet for them, too.”

Spike nodded, but Christy frowned. “Do you really expect to come in contact with another drug-crazed mass-murdering gang in the future, Xander?”

“You never know. I’ve…had some strange things happen in my life. I’ve met people who were like Benny before, back when I was a kid.” He got up and took his can to the sink and dropped it in with a clatter. Then he got himself another and returned to the table. “Where was I?” he asked as he sat.

“Benny Rodrigues and the piece of wood,” she said.

“Right. I sort of…subdued him with it, I guess. Bashed him over the head until he stopped moving, mostly. But then I noticed the restaurant was empty and that’s not right, ‘cause Franco’s is usually pretty busy that time of day. Their sauce is the best. So I took a peek in the back room. And then I…I really wished I hadn’t.”

She leaned forward over the table. “What did you see, Xander?”

“Well, there were several more…people in Benny’s condition. Only, you know, more ambulatory ‘cause Benny pretty much wasn’t anymore. And there were also some other people, living—uh, normal people. A couple men, some ladies. Even a few kids. They were really scared, all crying and everything.”

“There were some victims as well, right? I mean, victims the gang had already killed,” said Christy.

“There were definitely some dead people present. And again, calling 911 did enter my mind. But the phone had been pulled out of the wall and everyone’s cell phones were in this mangled heap in one corner, and I was afraid if I went for help, those kids…. So I went in swinging.”

“Not thinking,” Spike added angrily. “As likely to get yourself offed as anything.”

“Well, I haven’t yet, have I?”

“Luck.”

“It’s not like you’re Mr. Careful, Spike. Need I remind you of ugly amulets? Or evil lawyers?”

“’S different. Didn’t have you yet.”

Xander crossed his arms on his chest. “And now that you do have me, you’re claiming you’re the epitome of tact and care? ‘Cause I seem to remember last night and those, uh, guys across town with the sharp teeth who were way less vegetarian than you. And an incident a few weeks back with some dem—uh, biker dudes. Big, ugly biker dudes. Who almost had you for breakfast because they looked at me cross-wise and you just jumped them. Or last year, when Dawnie was visiting and we—”

“Yeah, yeah. Not the same. I bounce back from the fatal shite.”

“Not all of it. You’re not untouchable, Spike. And if you do dus—uh, die—it’s gonna kill me, too.” Xander’s voice broke a little on that and Spike did lean out of his chair to grab Xander’s head and give him a good, healthy kiss.

Christy didn’t mind the interruption this time. But after a moment, Xander pushed away. His face was flushed and he was breathing hard. Not Spike, though. He was as pale and calm as ever, and it hardly looked like he was breathing at all.

“Sorry,” Xander muttered to Christy. “Spike and I have a few unsettled issues. Anyway, I went into the back room and I grabbed a fire extinguisher and started spraying and whacking. And probably screaming, too. I guess the, uh, gang decided on easier pickings because they ran out the back door. Well, most of them did. I got a couple of them. And that’s all, really. Cops came and everyone was okay.”

“Except Benny Rodrigues and the two corpses the police found in the back room,” said Christy.

“Yeah, except them.”

“The police are still trying to figure out why the gang would drag a couple of half-rotted cadavers with them. They think maybe it was some sort of Satanic ritual or something.”

“You’re in the right neighborhood,” Spike said with a chuckle.

She shook her head. “Well, I certainly hope the gang isn’t still in the neighborhood. The police haven’t found them yet.”

“And I don’t expect they will,” Spike said smugly.

“Not much faith in the Detroit P.D.?”

“Let’s just say there are some who know how to keep things buried.”

“Too bad those some don’t know how to hose themselves off after the burial part, before the coming in the house part,” Xander said.

Christy had no idea what he was talking about, but she decided to just move on. “So, how do you feel, Xander, now that you’ve rescued all those people?”

“Um…I don’t know. It’s not that big a deal, really. Just trying to help out.”

Spike clapped Xander on the shoulder. “All in a day’s work for my boy, really. He’s saved loads more than a few pizza patrons over the years. There was this one time when his witch went postal, and—”

“Spike!” Xander smiled apologetically at Christy. “He gets a little carried away sometimes.”

Spike stood and stretched, which was pretty distracting. Then he bent and kissed Xander’s cheek again. “Come carry me away, love,” he said with his voice so husky that Christy’s mind immediately went to very pleasant X-rated places.

Xander went bright red again. “Um, I think I gotta go. Natives are getting restless.”

“Are there any details you’d like to add?” she asked.

“No. Sorry. It was really—”

“I know,” she interrupted with a smile. “No big deal. Just another ordinary day for you.”

“You have no idea,” he said, straight-faced.

Christy stood. She collected her notebook and recorder and left a business card on the table. “Thank you for your time. If you think of anything else you’d like to say, just give me a ring, okay?”

“Sure.” Xander stood, too, and he and Spike walked her to the door. After she opened it, she turned to look back at them. They had their arms around each other like that was the most comfortable position for them to be in, like they fit together naturally. It was sweet and her mind turned from porn to romance. Whatever their issues were, she had the feeling these two were for real.

“Thanks again,” she said. Xander waved and Spike grinned at her. She flashed them her dazzling smile again, only this time just because they were so cute.

But they weren’t much of a story, sadly. She’d been hoping for drama but all she found was a couple of pretty ordinary guys. Xander was obviously just an average Joe who just happened to be at the right place at the wrong time.

As the door shut behind her and she walked to her car, she decided to put a call in to her editor and ask for a different story instead. She’d heard some rumors about another gang across town. That one was reported to be using barbecue forks to mug victims. She shook her head. Detroit was a strange city. She should really consider moving. Maybe last month’s job offer from the Cleveland _Plain Dealer_ was still good.

 

 _  
~~~fin~~~  
_

 

 


End file.
